


De(Seperation)

by Sleuthingbabe



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Character Study, F/M, M/M, Maruki clearly ships AkeShu, Persona 5 the Royal: SPOILERS, Third Semester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:13:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24908182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sleuthingbabe/pseuds/Sleuthingbabe
Summary: Takuto Maruki yearns for his vision of the ideal reality to come to full fruition. But even he must admit that he is deluding himself if he believes that his wish can be satisfied without the presence of one of the strongest bonds he has ever witnessed: the bond of love between Akira Kurusu and Goro Akechi. He has one more night to persuade the leader of the Phantom Thieves that such an unusual relationship is not something he could simply conjure up—divine powers be damned—and there is no reason to reject it as mere fantasy.
Relationships: Akechi Goro & Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 13
Kudos: 120





	De(Seperation)

**Author's Note:**

> My favorite character from Persona 5 Royal is easily Maruki, who I think is often misunderstood by the fandom. As a result of this, I hoped to offer a more generous interpretation of his dialogue with the main character on the night of February 2nd (he is frequently thought to be only manipulative/self-serving here) because there are most certainly multiple layers to it. From my perspective the source of his distortion is his compassion, which is why I cannot agree with the suggestion that he wanted to use Akechi as a bargaining chip to get ‘his way’ that night.

Takuto Maruki understands very well that the world in which Akira and his friends inhabit is artificial in nature. He designed it after all; it is _his_ reality to create. He supposes that the resistance he faces from the Phantom Thieves stems less from their discontent with the lives he manufactured for them and more from their inability to imagine anything better for themselves.

The very _tragedy_ of the idea prompts the doctor to rip open a few nearby sugar packets and watch them eagerly dissolve into Leblanc’s signature house blend. Akira is uncomfortably quiet on this night and it is worrying to him--

“So getting down to business…I wanted to confirm with you one last time… is there no other way to come to an agreement besides fighting?”

Now there is no hesitation to answer from his former pupil, _confidant_.

“We can’t accept this reality.”

Maruki recalls in this moment with great clarity a thought exercise; one that he used in his earlier counseling sessions with his fellow persona-user in order to help acclimate him to his vision of the proper justice. It was a rather silly and simplistic way to relate him to his philosophy: but would a cookie _need_ to taste less delicious if you were convinced otherwise?

Akira did not hesitate to respond then either.

“I understand that from your perspective that this reality seems distorted, but it’s a reality in which every person will be happy.”

Maruki thinks of Akira’s face once he must deliver the news. There is a cookie the leader of the Phantom Thieves is all-to-willing to indulge in the taste of; and he is waiting directly outside the cafe for Akira’s joy to absolutely _crumble_.

‘We’ can’t accept this reality indeed.

When Akira challenges him with his knowledge of Rumi, Maruki is not offended. If anything, he is baffled by the lack of awareness on the part of one deems his research’s inspiration. Even in his new reality, Rumi cannot return to him. Theirs is not a bond that is meant to be restored. She _should_ not return to him. His role in cultivating and contributing to her happiness ended the instant her parents were shot by the robbers that invaded their home. When they died as a result of his own cowardice--his inaction--so too did his right to his bond with her.

Contrary to what Akira concluded with his pointed question about her, he did not _lose_ Rumi.

The ideal happiness that Maruki conceives for his new world is not based on the lustful whims of the masses—it is not a wish-granting factory. As such, it will _never_ be a place wherein all the selfish desires of humanity are entertained by his power. This reality will instead host a happiness founded on those social connections which allow it to _thrive_. A world that perfectly harmonizes the ideal and the _real_.

Maruki recognizes that there is nothing inauthentic about the bond that both Akira Kurusu and Goro Akechi share. And while he does liken the relationship between them to his with Rumi, he is wise enough to know that there is a key difference: both teenagers are the single requirement for each other’s happiness. If one does not exist, the other cannot achieve their ideal happiness.

Akira’s visible confusion over how Maruki came to learn of Akechi’s fate in Shido’s palace is no accident either. It was a simple rewriting of his cognition that did the trick.

_“Dr. Maruki, I’m sorry for calling you over to the cafe this late, but I needed to talk to someone…someone who can **understand.** ” _

It was not hard to discern what Akira meant on that night that eerily mirrors this one; he was referring to their shared knowledge of cognitive pscience and of his identity as a phantom thief. That is why the doctor made the visit and warmly invited him to share his thoughts, despite the creeping pain (of yet another) headache.

The precursor to his divine gift.

Unfortunately, the best gift he could provide that night before he truly awakened to his persona was a listening ear to Akira, who for all his maturity and resolve could not shield the tremendous grief he experienced at his failure to save Akechi.

_“He didn’t **deserve** what happened to him.” _

Maruki remembers how that word “deserve” is thrown from Akira’s lips as if it was a dart intended to hit a precise target. And how he missed that mark entirely. There was a disturbing undercurrent to his tone; as it if it is less a regretful assessment of the turn of events for Akechi and more a condemnation of the turn of events for Akira himself.

No, _he_ did _not_ deserve what happened to _him_.

Before that evening in December, Maruki worked himself into a frenzy hoping to approximate what would be the perfect dose of happiness for Akira in fairer and better reality. Each of their counseling sessions together illuminated how brilliantly sharp and selfless the teenager was; however, Maruki remained in the dark in regard to what precisely Akira’s ‘wish’ would be.

Of course, he maintained certain _suspicions_ about it.

Akira’s gloves were always a bright, unapologetic _red._ Maruki first observed them when the air turned a bitter cold in the winter and he was forced to wear socks with his tried and true sandals—Akira had walked past his office, laughing with his soon-to-be track star friend; the flash of crimson refreshing in its symbolic _spirit_ of rebellion. But in the weeks leading up to his departure from Shujin Academy, Maruki was disappointed to only encounter an Akira absent of them, absent of that crucial _essence_ of will.

Thankfully, the doctor caught a glimpse of _something else_ in his last week at the school, something that completely alleviated his concern:

Akira carries _a_ glove in his jacket pocket.

There was one afternoon on Maruki’s last week at his school, that Akira nearly dropped the glove. He was saying his usual goodbye to the doctor, and when he bent down to grab a handful of snacks from Maruki’s bowl, the glove slipped out and threatened to replace them. Maruki, as if on polite reflex, attempted to rescue it; however, before he could make even _brief_ contact with it, Akira quickly seized the glove with a talent only a _thief_ could possess.

Naturally, what interested Maruki was not this particular skill that belonged to Akira; he was already aware of it. Rather, it was how he _looked_ at the glove once it was back in his hands.

Maruki keeps a pen that once belonged to Rumi. It is a treasure he holds quite literally close to his heart (it is either proudly displayed in his chest shirt pocket, or tucked away in a hidden inner pocket of his coat). He values it precisely because it was used to scribble notes of encouragement to him in college: _“Takuto, make sure you eat proper meals. No world class researcher can survive on knowledge alone_ ”, or _“Takuto, look those men in the eyes when you tell them about what you study--you’re clumsy, but still brilliant!”_

And, of course, his absolute _favorite_ despite its simplicity _:_ “ **Be happy**.”

Maruki believes that he regards the pen only with fondness. At times, longing; yet, there is definitely a constant silent appreciation for its existence. Akira, too, regards the glove with an unspoken fondness—there is no doubt—and longing. Still, interlaced with all of this is another equally potent sentiment: desperation.

Maruki cannot deny he is well acquainted with this very _particular_ brand of desperation. It is what infected his every waking hour when the love of his life was cruelly hospitalized; it was what imbued him with the strength and resolve to bring salvation to humanity. It was a shadow of his compassionate nature that he admittedly resented; however, it welcomed with its darkness a path towards the light—the light to usher in the _perfect_ reality.

The problem is that Akira cannot engage with this side of himself; he is not altogether conscious of its impact on his perception of the world. His persona enables him to confront the distorted visions of others and to rob them of their twisted desires, but his remains fixed in place. If Maruki’s twisted desire is saving humanity, Akira’s is saving Akechi—the one person he cherishes the most.

And Maruki knows better than to rob him of _that_. Perhaps Akira has—what Akechi called—“a palace” as a result of his unique relationship with Akechi. It is gratifying to whip up an idea of it in his mind; to picture its complex beauty. After all, there is nothing inherently ugly or _evil_ about this desire—there is only an injustice in the fact it cannot be _actualized_.

Well, not by Akira himself. And _that_ is the source of his pain. Maruki was pleased that he could finally relieve him of it. He is _not_ pleased that Akira will suffer this intense pain again unless he reveals the truth to him now about Akechi.

“I genuinely didn’t want to tell you like this. I didn’t want to make it seem like I’m holding him hostage…”

Akira meets Maruki’s gaze with that achingly _familiar_ desperation. “I will not accept this!” is what he expresses without the luxury of being able to truly voice the words.

Akechi fails to hear him. And it is absolutely _heartbreaking_ even if it is also absolutely _predictable_. The detective prince never valued his own life in the way that Akira values it. He cannot fathom how he could ever matter to anyone outside of his own _utility_.

“Don’t tell me you think dangling my life before us is going to have any impact on _our_ decision.” There is another kind of desperation clearly reflected in Akechi’s eyes. A desperation Maruki can only identify as a product of his self-loathing; a desperation seated in the notion that he needs to reject the reward of life in favor of the punishment of death.

Maruki’s reality will have _none_ of it. And Akira _does_ agree. The calling card is not delivered with any serious conviction; it is tossed across the table as an afterthought. It’s a show Akira puts on to pacify the one he loves. The doctor doesn’t even bother reading it.

He nods, “I’ve heard your calling.” And he _means_ it—in more ways than one. He hears the calling of Akira’s heart.

And tonight, Maruki muses with equal parts pride and _happiness_ , so finally will Goro Akechi.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much to everyone who decided to read my fanfiction! It honestly has been quite a while since I was inspired to write, but fortunately Persona 5 Royal reawakened that creative spirit inside me! Although I did enjoy the vanilla version of the game, Royal’s added content (particularly Maruki’s and Akechi’s confidants) enriched its narrative themes of justice so well that I couldn’t help but fall deeply and obsessively in love with it.
> 
> AND SPEAKING OF LOVE AND OBSESSION--
> 
> I did not ship Akeshu/ShuAke until Royal. I actually despised Akechi in the original game for what I understood to be wasted potential—the writing of his character felt both shallow and rushed to me. Royal did a tremendous job of ‘changing my heart’, so to speak—as I now appreciate the brilliance of Akechi and this pairing.
> 
> I hope in the future to produce more works focused on their romance and the game in general because it is a total masterpiece! Please feel free to engage with me in the comment section—I would appreciate hearing your opinions/insight!
> 
> (Also this is my very first upload to this website and I was eager to post this, so apologies for any grammar/formatting errors!)


End file.
